


Mission: Change the Tide

by Pent



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: Elevators, Love Triangles, M/M, Manipulations, Non Consensual, POV First Person, POV Third Person, Sloppy Makeouts, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-26 18:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pent/pseuds/Pent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Abel is the key figure in more than one plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I never looked at Cain the same again, after I had—had, _betrayed_ him in the lift that day. I didn't know if he was oblivious to what I had done, or if my punishment was to be impaled through the gut every time I looked his way from the shame of remembering. Was Cain acting normal, or was he trying to lead me on to subtle hints of his suspicion and rage? Was he testing me? Being passive aggressive?

"This is what you get," I could hear him say in my mind again and again, angry and hurt, "for being such a dirty whore." My face grew cold every time I saw him: he knows, he definitely knows. And every time I looked away, my face was flaming with shame and knotted with embarrassment. Whether Cain knew or didn't know—the whole thing was messing with my head and really starting to get to me. That was karma's side of the punishment, which constantly seemed to remind me in a growling voice that I was a filthy slut. What was I thinking, what on Earth was I thinking?

Honestly? I completely deserved it.

I'd never felt real shame before. I thought I had—the time I accidentally wrecked my motorcycle on ground-level earth. I was fine since it wasn't a major crash. And the motorcycle was okay, too, aside from being stuck in the mud, dinged up at the front, and filthy. My dad wasn't fine, however. He never lived it down, how much humility I had brought to the family for doing something stupid _in public_ ; how I could have ruined his career. I felt awful about it.

Anyway. The Sleipnir is relatively peaceful late at night, for a battleship. On that horrible day, the last navigator had left the lab a couple of hours before I did, so I had been left alone in the vacant space with nothing but the humming of the equipment keeping me company. Silence fueled my work-drive; I got completely lost in it. I caught a glimpse of the time when it was past 0400. I hadn't meant to stay in the lab that long, since Cain never liked me staying out so late. But he didn't really say anything about it—I mean, besides teasing me about working too much, sucking up to Cook, and so on. Either way, we always made up for it later in the night or earlier in the morning.

 _Where did the time go?_ , I had thought as I stared down at the illuminated screen of engine data with tired, strained eyes. I shook my head and turned the monitor off, unhappy at the realization that I would be in this exact position in—less than four hours.

Challenging myself to keep my eyes open, I slugged my way towards the lift. I had thought that everything was normal and that no other people were around, but as the doors slid shut, a dark figure came sprinting from the side and squeezed his way through the almost-closed elevator doors. I was more awake than I had ever been at that point, nearly bashing my head into the wall behind me from being startled like that. My heart felt like it was going to rip its way out of my chest as I mindlessly gasped, sorry- _sorry!_ -I-didn't-see-you-coming!

He didn't say anything. Taking a silent deep breath, I looked at him while he stared at the closed doors of the elevator. I'd seen him around before, the fighter, but my pounding head couldn't recall his name. I stared at him hard, as if it would force me to remember, while I wondered where I had seen him before, or if I had ever spoken to him. 

The fighter's name never came to mind, but I hardly cared when he all of the sudden sprang into action, bashing the emergency stop button with a lightning-fast fist. Alarm and confusion shot through me. When I opened my mouth to ask him what was going on, he pinned me against the wall with his body. Lips crashed into mine, and his tongue broke straight into my mouth.

Admittedly, I flailed, eyes wide with surprise, guilt, shock, _arousal_. Dazed, I tried to push him off of me, but he was strong, despite how skinny and breakable he looked. I could nearly feel the desperation pour off his tongue, weaving through every crevice of my mouth. The fighter was pressed so hard against me that I could feel the warmth of his skin underneath his clothes and his heart pulsing—steady and calm—through his pointy ribcage. 

The shameful part is that after a while, I stopped struggling. I may have even kissed him back a little, and ran my hands through his hair. Well, more than a little, to be honest. The heat of the moment made me crazy, and I had wanted that man, whose name I couldn't even remember. It wasn't my fault, though! I'm not a slut! This didn't count; it would be ludicrous if this counted. It wasn't my choice, he really was too strong for me to struggle away from, I was too tired, he was such a great kisser...

Sense snapped back into me like a whip when I felt his hand go down my pants. Squirming again, I managed to push him away from me this time. We were both panting, and I glared at him, directly into his eyes. His frightening look of robotic nothingness threw me off, giving him the opportunity to dive right back in, nailing into me even harder than he had before. His lips lightly brushed against mine before viciously trailing towards my neck. It took a lot of willpower not to be loud when he started with his tongue, sending chills down my entire body in ways that never happened with Cain...

Cain! I couldn't believe I was doing this, and tried to tell the fighter, stop, stop! But it only came out in desperate gasps that encouraged him further. I tugged his hair on accident, but he didn't seem to care, or even notice. Thankfully, he stayed away from my shamefully solid erection. 

I didn't know how long it had been when he finally did stop. I tried to not sound out of breath while he remained neutral and dead. The look on his face was something I couldn't interpret at all, something I had never seen before that caused me to feel even more horrible about the situation. 

The fighter brushed himself off and fixed his hair, avoiding me the entire time like nothing had happened. He started the lift again. While I was disoriented and wondering what in the world just happened, he went back to staring at the doors. Just before the lift creaked to its stop, the fighter looked me square in the eyes, and said so quiet, strangled and hoarse that I could barely hear him, "That will work."

I felt my stomach drop, an unsettling prick sending chills down my spine. What had I done and what was he talking about? I clenched my jaw tight in a combination of shame, regret, fear, and god knows what other emotions were mixed in, leftover from our sloppy make-out.

The door to the lift opened, and the fighter skittered off. I never remembered his name.


	2. Chapter 2

_Crash!_ Two pairs of eyes shot to the door. When a fist started pounding on it, Porthos shot Deimos a sour look.

"Deimos," the muffled voice of Cain roared, accompanied by a rapid stream of thumps and bashes. "Where the fuck are you? Open the door!"

The fighter in question tottered towards the door and slid his jacket on, while under a deadlock of Porthos's narrowed eyes from his perch on the top bunk. Huffing quietly, he relaxed onto his stomach, strong arm dangling off the bed. When the knocking and yelping continued, with Deimos operating fluidly slow, Porthos moaned and smashed his face into his pillow while covering his ears.

"Deimos, get the fuck out here!" blasted into the room at the same time the navigator grumbled, "Answer the door. Make him shut up." 

Figuring that he had let Cain's rage simmer enough, Deimos let the door hiss open, sweet smile meeting Cain's infuriated, red-faced snarl.

"Playing innocent, Myshonok?" Cain fumed with a snort, shoving into the room with clenched teeth. Deimos curled into himself and felt his breathing hitch, unable to meet Cain's eyes. "You really thought that Abel could keep a secret?"

When Deimos realized that Cain was waiting for an answer, he shook his head—of course he had known how Abel would react in the aftermath of their experience on the elevator. The response earned him an outraged cry of, "What is wrong with you?"

"Hey. Knock it off," warned Porthos loudly.

"Mind your own fucking business!"

"You're in my room, cur."

"You're not the only one who lives here!"

"Rude," Porthos scoffed before further deflating his position on the bed, "At least take this somewhere where I _can_ mind my own business."

"Shut the fuck up!" Cain barked, advancing forward with balled fists.

Porthos cocked his brow and shifted to turn his back to the fighter, having said everything he was going to say. Instead of strangling the navigator like he wanted to, Cain snapped around to face Deimos, who quietly stood in the same place with a nervously blank expression on his face. 

Growling a few lines of colorful Russian, Cain yanked Deimos by the arm and dragged the willing fighter out of the room and let him go. Muscle memory led Deimos to march straight to Cain's room without following him. Heart-throbbing thoughts overtook Deimos's mind: Cain had come to his room to retrieve him. 

Deimos stumbled slightly when Cain herded him into his room, dazed and clouded in his swelling thoughts of him. Cain took the opportunity to trap him against the wall between his hands that had crashed so hard that Deimos swore the entire battleship quaked. Deimos's heart pounded wildly at how close Cain was to him. Swallowing hard, he felt his face burn hotter than the rest of his body. "The fuck got into you, Deimos," Cain asked low, "When you messed around with my girlfriend?"

Glints of pain and potential tears in Cain's eyes stabbed Deimos through the chest, causing his mouth to quiver open slightly when he snapped his gaze to the floor again. Deimos had seen that horrific look in Cain when they were young; the image had since then haunted his nightmares. Years faced with suffering and betrayal, Cain had built a vicious wall to hide his pain and fear. In betraying his trust, Deimos tore it down.

Thoughts burned his mind when he noticed Cain relax his hands and slouch away from the wall. When he could breathe, Deimos risked glancing into Cain's glaring eyes again. The wall was back up; he braced himself accordingly.

"I thought I could trust you," Cain said with such a filthy look of murderous danger that made Deimos want to squirm out of his skin. Confusion marked itself on Cain's face when he grew frustrated at his obliviousness of Deimos's intentions. "If you're that horny, I woulda fucked you."

Surprise smeared itself across Deimos's face. Cain demanded, "Why would you do something like that?" 

When Cain honed in on him for an answer, Deimos felt himself blush profusely like a clueless teenager. Perplexed thoughts ran through his head while his eyes pricked and threatened to leak. Nervous, he whispered, "I wanted you."

A dead, uncomfortable silence followed. 

Cain laughed once, a shallow huff. " _You wanted me?_ What the fuck is wrong with you, Deimos?! Why did you think that messing around with my girlfriend would make me want you back?"

"Especially when you were supposed to be the one cutting down assholes who have their eyes on him," Cain hollered, clutching Deimos by the shoulders. Not knowing what to do, Deimos stared helplessly away from Cain, whose hot breath was making his eyes sting with tears. Cain violently released him, spitting, "You're worse than Praxis."

The words stung, but Deimos had wanted this. Though his heart sank, he knew that Cain was focused on nothing but him. That alone filled Deimos with spectacular worth, and he would do anything to obtain that feeling, even if it came from Cain's hatred and pain. Anything to get Cain to notice him beyond a tool he could toss aside.

Brief memories of Abel's soft lips, surprised and pathetic desperation to have someone love him floated through Deimos's mind. Abel was no different from him, so much that it had felt wrong to kiss him on an even higher level than betraying Cain. Not knowing what to do or say, Deimos stood limp while regret passed through his mind. He had expected Cain to be violent and furious; not broken and in despair.

A strangled noise came from Cain. He pushed himself away from the wall and slammed to the disassembled bunk in the middle of his and Abel's floor, fist punching the ground so hard that Deimos winced. Cain refused to look at Deimos, which made his shoulders tighten and eyes swell. Watching him, Deimos let out a small breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Tentatively, he crawled next to Cain after a short while, unsure if he would be slapped away or not. Twisted hatred flimsily sheltered Cain's tears in a way that forced him to be still, sharp, and distant. So wound up that he would burst into tears if he moved—Deimos knew that look as well.

"He loves you, Cain," Deimos gambled to whisper after a while, leaning in close to Cain. "Abel loves you."

No tears were shed despite how dangerously close both fighters had been to cracking. Cain forced Deimos away from him and didn't look at him when he harshly asked, "How do you figure that, Deimos? Did he scream my name when you fucked him in the elevator?"

"I only kissed him," he retorted raspily with heavy eyes, surprised. "He wants you, not me."

So deadpan that Deimos couldn't tell if he believed him or not, Cain asked, "You only kissed him?"

Deimos nodded briskly.

" _Why?_ To make me hate you?"

Another nod, even though it wasn't true. Deimos was overwhelmed with pleasure to see Cain lighten in concealed relief even though he was still worn-out and furious. 

"That's fucked up, Deimos," said Cain to break the silence, shoving Deimos lightly and able to look his way again. "Princess tends to overreact to everything in the goddamn galaxy, especially when he's trying to hide something from me. Guess he blew it out of proportion."

Ecstatic that Cain believed him even though he was still furious and hurt, Deimos laughed silently with a small smile. "What the hell did you want to piss me off for?"

"I wanted you," Deimos admitted in a whisper, falling back into bleak sadness knowing that Cain wouldn't understand.

"Ha," Cain sneered, pulling himself up. "You're fucking weird, Myshonok."


End file.
